


Obi-Wan

by Cwylldren



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Anakin Skywalker Gets a Hug, Anakin Skywalker Makes a Friend, Family Feels, They Really Liked the Name, What-If, Young Anakin Skywalker, Young Obi-Wan Kenobi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:54:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28245759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cwylldren/pseuds/Cwylldren
Summary: Four-year-old Obi-Wan runs into a Jedi and his Padawan - and they're not who his parents expect.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 58





	Obi-Wan

„Obi-Wan!“

  
A shape darted through the crowd of the plaza, small feet tapping against the stone mosaic around the central fountain only to stop short. The child watched, open-mouthed, as the late-afternoon light glinted off a coil of water rising from the central tiered redstone fountain. It curved and spiralled in fantastic sea-monster coils before cascading down in a splash that soaked the gawpers gathered all around. The child crowed in delight and turned to the shivering sandy-haired boy next to him, the one who had been gesturing in front of the fountain and now stood arms crossed, blue eyes staring balefully at the fountain as his white woollen robes dripped, small puddles gathering in the uneven grout of the mosaic at his feet.

  
“Did you do that?” The child called Obi-Wan asked him, bouncing on his toes. He was no more than four or five, with wavy brown hair that glinted auburn in the sunlight and light grey eyes that met the other boy’s icy blue ones eagerly.

  
“Obi-Wan!” Mari-Tai pushed through the crowd and gathered her son up in her arms. He squirmed, sliding out of her grip. “Obi-Wan, leave the Jedi alone!”

  
“That’s quite all right,” a gentle voice with a Core accent said behind her. “My Padawan needs to learn to concentrate in spite of distractions.” Mari-Tai turned to see a young man in the white-and-tan robes of a Jedi. Her heart jumped to her throat. He was not all that old, solidly built, his reddish-brown hair just short enough to look unkempt. He gently stroked the stubble on his chin as he looked down at his apprentice. “Again.”

  
The soaking padawan wrung out his braid and crinkled his brow at the younger boy. “Your name is Obi-Wan?”

Obi-Wan stuck out his tongue and grinned. “Yes! What’s your name?”

  
The older child gave him a serious look and turned his attention back to the fountain. “Do I have to do this in front of all these people?” The plaza was getting more crowded by the minute as people stopped to stare at the wonders of the Force, aware this was something very few would ever see again in their lifetimes.

  
His master smiled indulgently. “You will not always have privacy when using the Force. And it’s a lovely day. The sun will soon dry out your clothing. Now, try and bring the water down gently once you have finished forming it.”

  
The padawan gave a melodramatic sigh, so very much a ten-year-old child and not a wielder of mystical energies, that Mari-Tai felt her heart tighten again.

  
“Mari-Tai! Obi-Wan! Where are you?” a voice called from the crowd, strident in its urgency.

  
“Here, daddy! There are real Jedi!” The boy piped up. The Jedi’s hand snaked out and caught his collar before he ran off again.

  
“Better to stay here, youngling. Your father will find you.”

  
Mari-Tai gripped her son’s hand as tight as she dared. This one, she was never letting go. “I’m so sorry,” she told the Jedi again as her husband shoved his way through the crowds and squatted in front of Obi-Wan, gripping him by both shoulders.

  
“Obi-Wan! Don’t ever run off like that again!”

  
“But daddy, look!” Obi-Wan pointed to the fountain, which was once more undulating like a thing alive. A small breeze sprinkled droplets over the crowd, spreading the scent of rain.

  
“I know, Obi-Wan, it’s very nice,” Mari-Tai told her son desperately, “but we should go on, now, and stop pestering the nice Jedi.”

  
The padawan, who was very carefully lowering his hand, settled the water back into the lower basin. A single wavelet slopped over the sides of the polished redstone, leaving it gleaming. The padawan made a face at it and somersaulted back to avoid getting his feet wet, his tunic slapping wetly against his legs and sprinkling his boots after all. He glared down at the water spots, pouting.

  
“That’s so wizard! I want to learn to do that!” Obi-Wan yelled, grabbing the older boy’s tunic.

  
Mari-Tai and her husband blanched as the Jedi lay a hand on their son’s shoulder, but his voice was gentle. “I am sorry, young Obi-Wan. But here on Stewjon I am sure you were tested when you were a baby. The Force has other things in mind for you.” He turned to his padawan. “That was much better. If you want, you can play a little with Obi-Wan until Master Drokk arrives.” He folded his arms and looked the gawking people around the plaza in the eye until, one by one, they all turned away and found better things to do. “If Obi-Wan’s parents don’t mind, of course,” he added with a little bow to them.

  
Mari-Tai and her husband Pel-Din stared helplessly at each other, then nodded. Obi-Wan grinned and grabbed his new friend by the hand, dragging him to a big bronze statue of a dulikk the children loved to climb.

The Jedi settled himself on one of the benches, legs stretched out before him and arms crossed across his chest. He sighed deeply in a release of tension Mari-Tai recognised only too well.

  
Exchanging hesitant looks with her husband, she gingerly sat down beside the Jedi. “They keep you on your toes, don’t they?”

  
The Jedi gave her a sidelong look. “You have no idea.”

  
Pel-Din chuckled and gestured at Obi-Wan, who was pointing out to the sceptical-looking padawan the advantages of sitting in-between the front spines of the statue. “We have that one. He almost never shuts up and he makes up his mind a millisecond before you realise he has come up with yet another hairbrained idea he doesn’t even realise will get him into trouble.”

  
The Jedi smiled at that. “Yes, and that one,” he tipped his chin at the sandy-haired padawan who simply leapt onto the dilluk’s back, landing neatly between two spines, as though it wasn’t three times as high as he was, “can lift things without even having to touch them. And he questions everything.”

  
Mari-Tai threw her head back. “Oh, the stars save us. It’s hard enough as it is. Imagine Obi-Wan at two with telekinesis thrown in.” She clapped her hand to her mouth, realising what she had just said. She caught the twitch in her husband’s cheek and blinked back tears. Would it ever get better? Would they ever escape the guilt, the what-ifs? She swallowed with effort, trying to turn the conversation back to safer waters. She imitated her son’s exasperated tones. “But mum, why can’t I eat with my hands? The sauce drips on them anyway and this way we’ll have one less fork to clean!”

  
Pel-Din’s shoulders relaxed slightly and he huffed out a laugh. “Daddy, why do I have to make my bed? It will only get all scrunchy again!”

  
The Jedi smiled at them. He had a nice smile, Mari Tai thought. Pel-Din bowed slightly. “Pel-Din Kenobi, at your service. This is my wife, Mari-Tai.”

  
The Jedi sat up a bit at that, his grey eyes seeming to bore into them. Then he gave them his polite smile again and dipped his head.

  
“Master Kenobi!” Pel-Din jumped, but it was the Jedi who stood up and turned around to bow to an older Jedi, a Feridian with wrinkled brown skin, the claws on his three-fingered hands yellowed and brittle.

  
“Master Drokk.”

  
The Feridian looked him up and down and grunted. “Hunh. Barely more than a padawan. But they say you know about Dirilicis terracing?”

  
The younger Jedi smiled. “I spent some time with the Agricultural Corps.”

  
“Hunh. Well, come along then, I don’t have all day.”

  
The younger Jedi turned towards the children and held out a hand. “Anakin! It’s time to go. Say good-bye.”

  
The sandy-haired padawan said a few words to Obi-Wan then, almost furtively, gave him a quick squeeze before somersaulting off the statue. He made a running landing, booted feet pounding the mosaic floor before coming to a stop next to his Master. The grey-eyed Jedi turned back towards the couple and gave them both a short bow.

  
“Master Kenobi. Mistress Kenobi.” He smiled his kind smile again. “Take good care of little Obi-Wan. Come, Anakin.” He put his arm around the boy and guided him after Master Drokk.

  
Pel-Din jogged to the statue to lift Obi-Wan off before he took it in his head to jump as Anakin had. Mari-Tai gave the retreating Jedi one last look and joined her husband and son. “Do you think that was-?”

  
Pel-Din gave her a squeeze. “I think that was a Jedi Knight and a kind guardian. Come on, Obi-Wan. We still need to get you your new datapad for school.”

  
Obi-Wan looked up at them. “Do you think they’ll come back?”

  
Mari-Tai and her husband looked at each other over the tousled head of the child the Force had let them keep. “Who knows? The Force works in mysterious ways.”

**Author's Note:**

> My first ever fanfic, a little drabble that came to me the other day. I figured it can't be easy to give up your baby to the Jedi, and that different families would have different coping mechanisms. Including the urge to actually use the name you spent so much time picking out to yell at your child and comfort them.  
> Tell me what you think (or just kudo and run, I'm easy)! ;)


End file.
